


Modern Reboot of a Classic Tale

by lesdemonium (winnerstick), winnerstick



Series: Romtober 2020 [29]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Inspired by Pygmalion and Galatea (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, University student Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/lesdemonium, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/winnerstick
Summary: Jaskier is a starving artist and Geralt is... his statue.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Romtober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949827
Comments: 9
Kudos: 139





	Modern Reboot of a Classic Tale

“Well, you are just. Just.”

Jaskier trailed off, staring at the figure before him. He did not speak back, of course, because he was a statue. Nothing more than a statue. Carved from marble. Carved from marble by Jaskier himself. The statue, no matter how proud Jaskier was of it, could not speak back. No matter how much Jaskier had found himself speaking to the statue, he could not speak back.  _ It _ could not speak back, as he had been reminded over and over again by his friends, who really were growing quite concerned.

Jaskier ran his finger over the smooth shoulder. He couldn't entirely blame his friends for their concern. After all, even just thinking the word  _ it _ in regards to the statue had Jaskier’s heart pinging painfully. The statue--Geralt, as Jaskier had taken to calling him--deserved better than that. Except he didn’t. Because he was a statue.

“I’ve gone mad, Geralt,” Jaskier said helplessly, and buried his face in his hands. As if the statement itself didn’t already demonstrate that exact point perfectly. Geralt could not talk back. Jaskier was speaking to a statue. Had been speaking to the statue for as long as it had taken him to carve out the blasted thing.

At this point, though, he felt like a friend. Jaskier had never worked on another piece longer than he had worked on Geralt, and he had never been prouder of its outcome. As Jaskier worked, he had talked about everything going on in his life, and it felt almost as if he was confiding in a friend. Sure, the friend didn’t talk back, but it still felt as if Jaskier had imbued an entire personality into the form. He could imagine the way Geralt  _ would _ respond, and had often had joked around or teased with the statue, as if he really  _ had  _ responded.

Jaskier knew it wasn’t healthy. Knew he should probably sell the thing--and make insane amounts of money, as Jaskier’s professors all assured him--and move on with his life. Maybe go to a therapist, since he apparently needed one to unfuck all of  _ this _ . But the idea of parting with Geralt devastated Jaskier.

“I wish you were real,” Jaskier sighed. He stood, paced the room, walked to the door, only to come back to stand before Geralt. “I wish you were real and human and that I could touch you and talk to you for real.”

Magic didn’t exist, however. Bills did. Bills and rent very much existed and Jaskier had maxed out basically every form of payment he had to rent the studio space to create Geralt, not to mention the raw materials and equipment needed to carve him out. He had to sell him. He had a buyer already, one that would more than pay off everything Jaskier needed to pay off, and  _ then some _ . It was time to say goodbye. He’d be leaving tomorrow. And then Jaskier could figure out where the fuck he had gone wrong with his life.

“Goodbye, Geralt,” Jaskier said, with all the false bravado he could muster. It didn’t matter. Who else could hear him except Geralt? Geralt couldn’t even hear him. Because he was a  _ statue _ .

Jaskier was just walking out the door when he heard, from behind him, a voice he didn’t recognize say, “Jaskier?”

**Author's Note:**

> me after every other prompt i fill: no, zoe, you do not need to make another freaking longfic of this.  
> me: bUT WHAT IF I DO
> 
> don't let me get your hopes up i don't have like a plot or anything just know that it ends much more happily for pygmalion and galetea with exponentially more statue fuckin


End file.
